


of dragons past

by vanitaslaughing



Series: darkest before dawn [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dragons, Gen, its basically a sidequest., surprise! the chest unlocks at night and unleashes a fucking superboss!, the sidequest is shinryu.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 20:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16249568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanitaslaughing/pseuds/vanitaslaughing
Summary: Gilgamesh rolled his eyes and dodged a swipe the dragon attempted to do with its tail as it passed the man. “Either way, you got information and then marched us right into the sacred Dragon’s Den Forest. Fully aware that you might be marching right into an ancient Sol dragon.”“Pretty much!”“You,” Gilgamesh leaned against the stone wall as the dragon turned around to let out a loud hiss that made the earth shake beneath their feet, “are legitimately the worst thing that ever happened to me in my entire lousy life.”





	of dragons past

**Author's Note:**

> while taking place in the same universe as [tu fui, ego eris](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13910043/chapters/32012169), you don't necessarily have to have read that!

There were definitely worse ways to die.

* * *

No.

 _Scratch_ that.

* * *

This had to be the absolutely _dumbest_ way that one could _ever_ go.

First off, trespassing upon what his village considered sacred ground was already bad enough as it were. His whole upbringing had been around this particular forest being sacred and that something was there that should not be disturbed. After all, this was a region known for its dragons that rose from the lake, and that haunted the mountains, and that crept along the pathways that even led to this very forest. Of course it would be infested with them as well. Hells, one in the village had even befriended a dragon from the lake.

Second off, they were two. Of course they were two. They had always been two, and would always be two, and now that they had gone here they would also die as duo. Someone from the village had poked fun at the perpetual loner of the village becoming a mercenary and having to travel the country with one person – chosen saviour or not.

Third off, the so-called chosen saviour was an idiot. Someone who enjoyed taking on things for the hell of it, who enjoyed the thrill of a hunt by sunset when they both knew that something in this region arose at night that was so terrifying that not even the two of them and his gods-given powers would outlast it until they got stronger. Naturally he had insisted that something waited in that forest that needed to be taken out – be it ancient treasure from before the fall, or something that festered with horrible Scourge. Not that he doubted that something was afoot in that regard – no matter how much of an idiot he was, every time he said that something _festered_ there would be some sort of souped-up creature straight from hell rising from the ashes of something else as soon as the sun set.

This had been a bad idea from the get-go, something that he _said as soon as he saw that infernal twinkle in the chosen’s face._ But alas and alack, like every _thrice-damned time_ the man came up with another harebrained idea, he did not listen to his supposed mercenary bodyguard. Which he, of course, came to regret later. Except this time Gilgamesh had no time to throw Ardyn one his trademark told-you-so glares.

Not buried treasure was always a bad sign. This was one of the most vital rules to follow if one travelled the continents; if there was something valuable in plain sight it was likely a trap that could cost the traveller their life. So far, so good. At least Ardyn had always followed that rule. Valuables in plain sight, no matter how tempting were avoided, and they often got around many an ambush with that because normally people were stupid enough to approach these and let the looters catch them off-guard.

Except this time he strayed too close to the thing. Because there was nothing else _here._ Further up was a small pond with water that glittered in the sunlight and that clearly served as source of water for the many creatures that lived in these parts. Definitely perfect hiding space for a smaller dragon as well, considering that it was surrounded by rocks that made it hard for something like a dragon hunter to approach unseen. But this clearing, with a small creek running through it and some of the most fantastically tall trees in Cleigne… is clearly empty. Not a good sign. That treasure chest that looks like it comes right from Solheim completely notwithstanding.

They don’t call it Dragon’s Den Forest for nothing. Gilgamesh said so _repeatedly._ The last time someone from Lix went in here a few years ago, they did not even find a bloody shred of cloth.

Well, Gilgamesh found bloody cloth. Or just cloth. He recognises it immediately, it’s native to his little home village, and the faded colour clearly shows that once upon a time this shred was vibrant blue. Blue enough to signify the previous village leader at least. But before he can even call out to Ardyn that something’s wrong, the idiot went and got too close to that treasure chest.

There are several mechanics that Solheim used, and Gilgamesh had tried to ignore the setting sun.

As soon as the sun vanished somewhere beyond a horizon he could see from this clearing, he heard something _click._ He also heard Ardyn stop, and a strange wind fills the area. Before he really assessed the situation, he rushed forwards to throw himself between the healer and whatever the hell was rising into the dimmer than ever skies.

The first thing he saw were the wings that knocked them backwards, then he saw the hundreds of shimmering scales. Then he heard that ear-splitting hiss that bent the trees all around them, that sent a shudder through the entire region.

After all, this forest was sacred. It was off-limits for a reason. This was the deity that guarded this forest, here to rain rightful retribution upon him.

Hells if he wasn’t going to go down doing what he had sworn once, however. He had only recently sworn his life to Ardyn and officially stepped back from being a mercenary and becoming his full-time bodyguard. Gilgamesh of the Village of Lix was not going to bring dishonour upon them – even if he had refused to step into the village when Ardyn went to inquire about the region and unfortunately was told about the forest.

The dragon circled around the clearing, wove itself around the trees. One move and it would bury them underneath ancient bark and roots, and for once Gilgamesh had absolutely nothing to say for himself. His swords were not made for tearing into _dragons._ Only dragon hunters had weapons, and the weapons most commonly used to pierce a dragon’s scales were lances and spears and the like. Tridents. It all depended on the species. But he wasn’t trained for that. There were no dragon hunters in Lix. He was fairly certain that neither Ardyn nor his brother Somnus were trained in how to kill a dragon.

Gilgamesh shifted his weight from one side to the other nervously, chewing on his lower lip. It was a habit he never grew out of, even now as man who had killed bandits on the road with zero regret. Then he heard a strange sound from behind him. That definitely was Ardyn’s voice, but… for a moment it sounded like the man was choking.

He slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder. He was absolutely terrified that something had attacked his charge while he was busy staring at the dragon.

But no.

Ardyn wasn’t choking, not on thin air, not on his own blood.

* * *

Ardyn was _laughing._

* * *

Gilgamesh must have been staring for a minute or so before Ardyn finally looked at him. The man even had the gall to cock his head a little with that irritating smug smile that seemed to captivate the masses plastered on his face. Gods preserve him. He would have been lying if he had said that this smile wasn’t insanely good-looking and precisely the thing that made him choose to accept the offer Ardyn and Somnus had made him back when he had been a hired sword.

“Now isn’t _that_ interesting?”

“Ardyn.” There were a few choice curses he wanted to let out, but in situations like these it was better to keep a level head. Especially since he knew that tone of voice. Ardyn was someone who quite enjoyed finding himself in dangerous situations, likely related to something that happened before they met, likely related to the rumoured harsh trials one had to go through before they could be considered a sage, a master of illusory magic.

“I think that explains the reason why dragons tend to flock to this region. And it most definitely explains the festering energy I felt pulsing ever since we first set foot in your sacred grounds.”

Ardyn respected holy sites. Normally.

Gilgamesh turned back to look at the dragon.

Then he caught it. Just the barest twinkle of a violet wisp somewhere where it didn’t belong. He held his breath – travelling on foot for such a long time, even once they switched to Chocobos, often meant that they were forced to continue travelling in the dark. Curing the people often meant that they had to deal with Daemons in the long run.

Whatever this creature was, it was infected. Which meant it wasn’t necessarily a deity.

Ardyn had gone on a long rant about this once. Only weakened deities were susceptible to the Scourge, and even then never fully succumbed. That was why none of the Six were infected, that was why even the recovering Ifrit would not become host to his own plague that easily. Only a thinking, breathing Source that had an advantage over the recovering gods could do such. Ardyn said that luckily whatever drove the Source was not intelligent by any means, because that would cause a lot of trouble down the line. Thinking beings that were not consumed by the desire to tear flora and fauna apart that controlled other Scourge-ridden creatures could play a long, long game if necessary. Ardyn often remarked that he would bring an end to that before the Source developed an actual intelligence.

Back to the dragon on hand, however, this thing definitely was infected. Animals that were infected like this often lived for long times before they regressed and turned into some of the lesser Daemons like goblins. Dragons were already long-lived – but steadily declining in number. Ever since the end of the Astral War they had gone back and back in number.

“There’s some reports on things that Solheim created. A machine to quell the gods, for example. A thing so terrifying that the Six even respect it, though it likely lies covered somewhere in the dust that settled after the Astral War. Another thing that they attempted to create was something that could rival the Hexatheon, another chip in the pride Ifrit felt for the humans he helped bring that far. Something to rival the machine’s power, though allegedly the machine and this thing registered each other as targets and therefore they chose to lock one away.”

Gilgamesh switched a sword to the other hand and unsheathed another. The dragon was changing its movement pattern. Something was rising just as the wind earlier had, and it did not sound good the slightest.

“Well. Locks. I should have _known._ Most Sol locks react this way, and Solheim was too proud to leave this creature completely shackled. But, alas. They left it in the dragons’ breeding grounds. Hence the name Dragon’s Den Forest – it’s where they reproduce.”

He took a deep breath. That explained the dwindling numbers – if this Daemon was eating the young and the breeding pairs alike, well. That wasn’t too difficult to wrap his head around. It would get more difficult if he didn’t somehow shut Ardyn up any time soon.

“Historian turned mage turned saviour babble all aside, how do we proceed from here?”

Dragonslaying was not something Gilgamesh had ever wanted to do. Dual-wielding some of the strongest forges he had ever spent money for or not, even just looking at the shimmering scales that now glittered silver and violet under the moonlight made him understand that he was outmatched. Hideously so. And Ardyn was definitely not at the height of his power either. He used most of his magical resources up whenever they traversed dangerous prowling grounds like these.

“Well, we would be in luck if the natural energy resources here were untapped.”

“… Oh, great. That means.”

The rushing sound increased, and not a moment later the creek all but exploded into a tidal wave. Ardyn reacted faster than Gilgamesh did, as if he had been anticipating that move, and instead directed a blast of wind through the sudden wall of water. It cut enough of a hole into it that they were unaffected by the howling wave that splashed against the trees, uprooted them and sent them crashing against the rock walls of this place.

“I might not be Somnus, but I know enough about wind to use it to my advantage. From here on… duck!”

Ardyn threw himself on the ground, and Gilgamesh knew better than to think twice about this. He followed suit, barely dodging the claws of that dragon as it rushed past them in the direction the wave had come from mere seconds ago.

“It’s size will be its downfall.” That was the tactic experienced hunters used against Behemoths. Large creatures were not exactly capable to keep track of smaller, quick-witted ones. Gilgamesh let out a groan as he and Ardyn got back to their feet.

“So, let me get this straight.” He barely managed to jump out of the way of the dragon’s snapping jaws at it returned, noting that its eyes gleamed yellow and dark miasma spilled from its mouth. “You felt something was off. Deliberately marched into my home village that you know I swore an oath not to return to until I return a warrior proven and worthy of challenging the village leader again. Marched in and squeezed information out of the villagers.”

“I wouldn’t quite call it _squeezing_ , dearest Gil.” The dragon from the chest actually swerved around Ardyn when he bent reality a little to cause a mostly harmless explosion. “It was a fun little conversation at a bar!”

Gilgamesh rolled his eyes and dodged a swipe the dragon attempted to do with its tail as it passed the man. “Either way, you got information and then marched us right into the sacred Dragon’s Den Forest. _Fully aware_ that you might be marching right into an ancient Sol dragon.”

“Pretty much!”

“You,” Gilgamesh leaned against the stone wall as the dragon turned around to let out a loud hiss that made the earth shake beneath their feet, “are legitimately the worst thing that ever happened to me in my entire lousy life.”

“Last week it was that stomach bug you caught because of our detour. The week before that it was my darling brother for paying you. And the week before _that…_ It was my snoring. The worst things that ever happened in your life seem to have a topic, my dear. Incoming!”

“Incoming _what?”_

Before Ardyn answered the entire area flashed bright red. Ardyn moved faster than a bolt of lightning in return, a thin shield manifesting just in time before the fire engulfed Gilgamesh and him whole. Still, Ardyn’s brittle little magical shields rarely lasted long enough to prevent lasting damage, and the force of it shattering sent the two of them flying backwards – just far enough for the fire to not reach them. This creature was not a fire-breathing dragon – now that he looked at it it definitely looked more like the aerial ones. He narrowed his eyes.

“You said Solheim created this thing?”

“Or at least modified it. Whatever the report was, my memory’s admittedly a little fuzzy on it.”

At least he understood now, vaguely enough. A flying creature, instead of the serpent that rarely touched the ground given the claws of the earth-aligned ones and the claws of those that called their home the Rock of Ravatogh. Likely those awfully spiky scales that sizzled with unused electrical powers hid gills as well. A creature that could command the elements, just as the gods did. But… there was a fatal flaw in the design.

Ardyn was grinning. That was the grin he wore when he realised something, and knowing that they often thought the same in battle, he likely was thinking the same at that moment.

“Say. The next time it charges at us, can you block it, just for a second? You’re my hired sword and shield after all.”

Gilgamesh let out an exasperated sigh, rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately for me, I think I can.”

He owed this man his life. Gilgamesh had sworn an oath to repay that debt one day, and by the hells themselves, even if the supposed saviour was driving him insane, he was going to do everything. He listened to every whim and every sway of Ardyn’s extremely strange character. If the Hexatheon’s chosen saviour was supposed to be a dignified man, they were mistaken. Ardyn might have been of noble, royal blood even, but he was just as much of a mess as every other person. Had he not found Gilgamesh, he would have died. Had Ardyn’s younger brother Somnus not decided to pay him either way, blood oath or not, they would have never travelled together – because Ardyn was not a person to accept help that easily.

Even if most of his antics were entirely and wholeheartedly _insane_ , Ardyn knew what he was doing most of the time when it came down to it. Thus, Gilgamesh moved between him and the sage to block the dragon. For a moment they clashed, though Gilgamesh nearly immediately started losing ground.

But that was all Ardyn needed. All of a sudden the temperature dropped, dropped further and further until it became unbearable.

And a moment later icy spikes tore themselves from the frost-covered ground, tore through scales and skin and muscle. For a moment the ice was brilliant in the moonlight, and just a split second later it was drenched in harshly sizzling dragon blood that oozed out of the wounds, with entire clouds of miasma bursting from said wounds. A shrill shriek broke the tranquillity of night across the Vesperpool, sent horror surging through every creature and every hunter unfortunate enough to hear it.

Ardyn let out a heavy cough, and Gilgamesh dropped his swords. With those swords dropped one of the dragon’s teeth, and Gilgamesh just barely turned around in time to catch the collapsing Ardyn.

And though the temperature in this clearing was still below zero, Ardyn seemed to be burning up. His eyes were feverish and closed a moment later. At least he was still conscious, judging from the raw chuckle that escaped him as Gilgamesh bent down to lower him to the ground.

A minute or so passed in silence before Ardyn opened his eyes again. The feverish look was gone, which meant that he had recovered enough to drag him to a haven. But he raised a hand to stop Gilgamesh.

“Hold on a sec. Grab that tooth that dropped. Pocket it.”

Gilgamesh did as he asked, trying not to gag as he put that tooth as long as his lower arm into one of his bags. Ardyn meanwhile shuddered and stood up slowly, staring at the miasma that was still rising into the night sky. It even dimmed the moonlight.

“The kid who wanted to become a historian would’ve been thrilled to even just see Solheim’s legendary Shinryu like this,” he said quietly as Gilgamesh offered him an arm after picking up his swords and sheathing them again. “Not to mention defeating it. Too bad we aren’t in a Sol testing facility. We would’ve gotten a completely useless badge for surviving this feat.”

Gilgamesh turned to look at Ardyn. He was still ghastly pale. “Sounds like a pretty shitty kid, hoping to meet a dangerous creature from a time when mortals rebelled against the gods. And what does the man called Ardyn clinging to my arm think of this?”

For ten minutes, they walked in silence. No Daemons beset them on their way out, which was already strange to begin with, but considering that miasma was still rising from the corpse as the ice melted it made sense somewhat. The forest was silent – just as silent as he always expected the sacred Dragon’s Den Forest to be.

Then Ardyn let go of his arm and walked on with his head hung low.

When they reached the exit, he stopped and turned to look at the moon.

“Well, I’d say Ardyn thinks this is an unfortunate waste of life. The dragons’ numbers are too low to properly reproduce, and those who hunt dragons make more and more money the rarer these creatures become. Even if we liberated your home’s sacred Dragon’s Den Forest, I’m afraid dragons are on their way out. … Can’t say I know what exactly Ardyn thinks though. Guy’s a bastard.”

They looked at one another and started laughing.

There were worse things to do than nearly dying after uncovering an ancient Sol creation.

“The least we could do is hang that tooth to someone who can work well with steel. You know, I think I want to get Somnus a sword for his next birthday. Maybe a piece of bone in that. And a dagger with a piece of bone in it. Maybe as the tip? Maybe with matching names? The sword Vita after life, and the dagger Mori after death?”

“I’d rather think your lord brother would be happy to just see you alive.”

“Ugh, you always ruin my good ideas.”

“Your good ideas always get us nearly killed.”

“Stop whining.”

“Whining? You nearly got us killed today, Ardyn. And last week. And the week before that. And--”

Ardyn just put a hand on Gilgamesh’s mouth. “Be quiet. You needn’t remind me. I will remember your whining about us nearly dying for the rest of my life.”

* * *

The dagger clattered on the asphalt. The sound alone tore through the darkness worse than anything else, but this fuzzy memory that was tearing through the back of his mind only made this worse.

He heard the slow drip of blood inflicted by that wound that he had precisely caused. Not enough to tear through muscle and sinew, because those were always hard to heal up later. But definitely enough to hurt like hell and bleed accordingly.

That dagger. For just a moment he thought he heard the rush of water, the sound of ice piercing something.

His opponent only crumpled to the ground moments later.

Ardyn held his head for a moment, unsure what to make of this. There was something trying to burrow its way out of the heavy fog that kept him from remembering faces and names of people that were irrelevant to him. Something about a dragon – though proper dragons were long extinct and only subspecies like wyverns survived to this day. Something about… the Blademaster. Something about this dagger. This dagger… and his brother’s sword. Twin weapons created to protect – and one did. The other only found itself buried between the older brother’s shoulders, meant to end a life too wretched to continue.

Mori.

If only he could focus, perhaps he could remember why this sudden wave of nausea and regret clouded his mind.

But he couldn’t.

Instead he used his powers to knit all these wounds he inflicted upon his little tool back together and avoided touching the dagger. Something about this thing… something about it.

He couldn’t remember.


End file.
